Complicated
by xohkansascity
Summary: Buffy Summers wonders what it would be like to be just another sixteen year old. But she's not; she's a vampire slayer. And her romantic life is made even more complicated by the fact her maybe boyfriend happens to be a vampire. Will it ever be simple?


The graveyard was dark. Okay, there was nothing new there. Shadows danced on the trees, illuminated by only the thin sliver of the crescent moon. Looking down at the platforms she was wearing, Buffy Summers sighed at the mud now caking them. Brand new shoes and she had already managed to ruin them. That would teach her to go straight from the Bronze to patrol. It would have been easy to stop in, throw on some sweats and some sneakers, maybe even grab some more weapons. But the last thing she needed was for Mom to hear her, or Dawn. If Dawn caught her sneaking in through her window, again, Mom was pretty much going to have a fit.

A sudden rustling from behind Buffy, startling her, and immediately she spun around. The hair on the back of her neck was standing on end, which was _never_ a good sign. Someone, or something, was standing just off in the distance. Pulling a stake from her handbag, she could feel her body tensing, ready to attack at any given moment...

"Buffy?"

A hand touched her shoulder, and with a quick spin, she flipped the body onto the damp, soft ground. Angel landed with a thud, looking up towards her. "Angel." Immediately, Buffy's hands rushed to her mouth. "Oh god, sorry." If he had been anyone else, Angel would have been winded. But Angel was Angel, a vampire. Supernaturally strong. It took more than that to stun him. "What are you doing here?" Immediately Angel pulled himself upwards. Brushing some dirt from his leather jacket, he looked down towards the petite blond girl. Buffy looked beautiful tonight, her cropped blond hair hanging down in her face. From the pale pink dress she was wearing, Angel guessed she had just come from a night of music and hanging out probably at the Bronze. With her friends. Like any normal sixteen year old girl would do.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I saw you here, and you looked kind of tense."

"Yeah, I thought I..." her voice trailed off. "I thought I felt someone watching me. But I guess it was just you skulking about in the shadows." Kicking some dirt, she sighed. Being with Angel was always so complicated. And it didn't help things that usually when they ran into each other it was in a graveyard, a dark alleyway, the mouth of Hell. And instead of chocolates and flowers, she got weapons, and vampires. All the evils of the word. Sometimes Buffy wondering what it would be like if her and Angel were just two regular kids in love. Holding hands, gong to the mall. Sitting in the back of movie theaters, makings out without having to worry their making out meant someone could get killed. "Did you see anything in the shadows?" Buffy asked finally—it was getting late, and she was getting tired. She could feel her grumpiness level increasing. Turning back to Angel, she got caught up in him. Those dark eyes, always smoldering. Especially smoldering whenever he was around her.

"Just you." Angel answered.

"Oh, just me." Buffy sighed. "Where every sixteen year old girl wants to be in. In the shadows."

"Is something wrong?" Angel asked finally. "You seem... tense. Tenser than usually, I mean."

It was beginning to get cooler. Rubbing her arms, Buffy shrugged. "I'm just feeling cranky, is all. The Bronze was pretty much a lovefest. And I guess I'm just feeling like.. it would be nice. To go out on a date, wearing a fabulous outfit and not have to worry about ruining a brand new shoes." Buffy kicked her shoe into the air, as though that was going to fix what was already damaged.

How did you explain to a two hundred and forty something vampire about stuff like dating—about wanting to just spend one night out at the movies. To eat popcorn and drink diet soda and not care about things jumping out of the dark at you. Angel would never understand anything like that; he barely understood the importance of coffee dates. And those usually ended with fights and blood and death. Or, at the very least, the ruining of a brand new outfit. Buffy glanced down at her shoes again, her pink dress. No matter how much she tried to resemble a normal girl, she wasn't. The chosen one—a vampire slayer. Man, couldn't she have just been given funny, unruly hair or ears that stuck out or a pear-shape? Sacred birthrights were beyond the suck.

"I should get out of here." Buffy sighed, spinning around once again. "There's nothing here. Not even a _lame_ vampire."

"Let me walk you home." Angel offered, feeling for her and trying to understand. It had been so long since he'd been sixteen. And even then, he hadn't been the most respectable young man. Instead, he'd been drunken, and stupid. Spending his nights at taverns. Maybe if there had been a girl like Buffy, maybe things could have been different. He could have been different. But it was silly to think of those things now. Things that never were, and never could be.

"I'm okay." Buffy assured him. "I've walked these streets alone before."

"I know." Angel's voice was soft. "I just mean, you're upset. We could talk some more."

"I'm really not feeling all that talky. What I really need a is a late-night cinnamon bun and maybe a little Audrey while I fall asleep." Leaning up, into him, Buffy kissed him on the cheek. It was so simple, such a small gesture. And yet, from the way he tensed as she leaned in, she knew it was close to much. It was the way she felt whenever she was around him. Like the whole world stopped spinning, like it was just the two of them. Pulling away, Buffy looked at her feet, and then back towards him. "I'll, uh... I'll see you around. Okay?"

Angel nodded. "Okay." There was a pause, and then: "Buffy?"

Buffy spun around. "Really, I'm fine."

"No, I just." He paused, looking as flustered as she felt. "I like your shoes."

Laughing to herself—it seemed like such a silly, insignificant thing to say. _I like your shoes._ But really, it meant so much coming from him. From Angel. Brushing her hair from her face, she smiled to herself and then back toward him. "Goodnight." Crossing the grass, she walked towards the mouth of the graveyard. Maybe Angel wasn't so dense to the whole dating thing after all. Maybe, somewhere deep down, he understood. Flipping around, from the tall iron gates of the graveyard, she waited to see if Angel was there. But he was already gone, slipping back into the shadows. Gone, again. The sun would be up soon, and Dawn would be bursting into her room, ready to wake her and annoy her. But none of it matter right now: not the vampires, or the demons, or even the fact her shoes were ruined.

Everything was so, just, totally awesome.


End file.
